


Breathing Room

by Jaydee_Faire



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Awkwardness, Damen being the biggest cuddlebug, Gen, M/M, Snuggling, google-translated swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 16:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7625197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydee_Faire/pseuds/Jaydee_Faire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing a ridiculously small tent, Damen gets a little too close for Laurent's comfort. Takes place in Halvik's camp during Prince's Gambit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathing Room

**Author's Note:**

> "All signs of recent occupancy had been a handspan away from his own body, suggesting a night spent in close but not transgressive proximity: some kind of self-preservation had apparently prevented Damen from rolling inward during the night; from throwing his arm over Laurent's torso and drawing them together to make the small tent seem larger than it was..."

The tent, Laurent thought irritably, was too small, even for the use that Halvik thought he and Damen would be putting it to. 

They must have taken some notice of Damen's size, and no sane person would think that that mountain of a man would fit comfortably in this tiny space, but here they were, with Damen sprawled on his back, snoring, and Laurent curled so small that every muscle ached with tension. 

This was ridiculous. Certainly he was in no danger from Damen, not in a tent made of hides scraped so thin he could count the legs on every beetle that landed on the curved roof. And Laurent assured himself that he had still less to fear from an unarmed man dressed in what looked like a handkerchief tied on with string. Besides, he was soundly, deeply asleep, exhausted from his beating, from the battle, from the long ride up the mountain.

No danger. And holding himself in this painful position just because he didn't like the idea of pressing too closely against that man was silly, when he needed to get what rest he could before returning to Ravenel. If he were going to be honest with himself, which he wasn't, he'd admit that it wasn't that he didn't _like_ the idea, just that he didn't think it... prudent. Just now. And he refused to consider "later."

So, slowly, carefully, Laurent uncoiled, stretching out beside Damen and leaving a neat little gap between them, wide enough for a washing line, as his brother used to say. He forced his muscles to relax, forced his eyes to close, to breathe evenly and deeply.

And that was when Damen turned over, mumbling something in Akielon, and wrapped an arm around Laurent's chest, pulling them snugly together.

Laurent froze. Quickly, think quickly. Kick backwards. Stand up, upturn the tent, use one of the supports as a spear. No, a stave: he couldn't afford to lose Damen now, he was too valuable of an asset. So, a quick strike against the skull, not hard enough to concuss but surely painful enough to make it clear that--

Damen buried his nose in Laurent's hair, mumbled again, and went on snoring.

Laurent could feel Damen's chest against his back, the press of the man's bicep underneath one arm. He curled his hips forward to keep him from feeling anything else pressing against him, then tried to gently extricate himself, only to have the breath squeezed out of him as Damen gripped him closer. 

_"C'est des conneries,"_ Laurent muttered, and considered his options. He could wake Damen, force him to move, and hope they didn't end up in the same position in another half an hour. But he needed Damen rested for Ravenel, and he couldn't make himself believe that "my slave wouldn't get off me" was a good enough excuse for losing a key battle against his uncle.

He could slither out of Damen's grip, somehow, and ask Halvik for a separate tent to spend the rest of the night in. That, of course, would lead to some awkward questions regarding Laurent's reason for leaving the tent without making use of Damen, and even more awkward offers of herbal remedies for his supposed condition. Laurent decided that he'd rather die at Ravenel than endure that. So.

It wasn't so bad, really: Damen's body radiated heat like a blacksmith's forge, useful in the chilly air of the mountains. He smelled of soapwort and lavender oil from his recent scrubbing, and Laurent found that if he didn't disturb him too much, his snores quickly tapered off into a soft, open-mouthed breathing. No. Not terrible in the least. So all Laurent had to do now was close his eyes and fall asleep.

He was still staring sandy-eyed at the closed tent flap when the first grayish light of dawn began to filter through it. Laurent had lain there for hours, chasing his mind away from thoughts of Ravenel and what he was sure was going to be a difficult battle and Torveld's troops from Patran and that little leather handkerchief that Halvik's girls had made Damen wear. Damen had slept on, oblivious, stirring only to keep them fit snugly together. 

Laurent abruptly decided that it was time and past for him to be up and about, taking care of all the great many things that needed to be done away from the tent and away from Damen and his stupid handkerchief, and tried to wriggle out of Damen's grasp again. Damen sighed, tightening his grip, and Laurent had to turn and shove at the broad brown chest, hissing, "Let go!"

"Mm," Damen mumbled.

"Let go," Laurent said again. "Damen--" then, gritting his teeth, tried a different tactic. _"Amoláo!"_

"Umm," said Damen, eyelids fluttering but not quite opening. _"Sygnómi."_ And he turned over, releasing Laurent, who could only be grateful, as he scrambled out of the tent, that Damen hadn't called him by one of his many other lovers' names. Or worse, his own.

He was glad of the cold mountain air.

**Author's Note:**

> I read this part in the book and immediately thought that that probably wasn't how it happened-- who doesn't move at all in their sleep, especially a big cuddly teddy bear like Damen?
> 
> Badly translated foreign language bits: Laurent says "This is bullshit," and then "Let go!" to which Damen replies, "Sorry."


End file.
